This reflection focuses on the simple yet powerful statement, But God. Not as a slogan, but as the gospel hinge that breaks the spell of “this is all I’ll ever be.” In Ephesians 2:4–5, Paul shows us why the problem is deeper than behavior: we were separated from God and powerless to rescue ourselves. Then he shows us what defines us now: God, rich in mercy, moved first and made us alive with Christ through Jesus. In this reflection, we’re going to walk through what that reveals about Jesus, how it reorients identity, and how it changes the way you respond to fear, shame, and self protection in real life.
'But God, being [so very] rich in mercy, because of His great and wonderful love with which He loved us, even when we were [spiritually] dead and separated from Him because of our sins, He made us [spiritually] alive together with Christ (for by His grace—His undeserved favor and mercy—you have been saved from God’s judgment). [Rom 6:1-10] ‘
Ephesians 2:4–5 is one of those passages that tells the truth without crushing us. Paul doesn’t sugarcoat the “before,” but he also refuses to let the “before” be the final word. He writes, “But God, being [so very] rich in mercy, because of His great and wonderful love with which He loved us, even when we were [spiritually] dead… made us [spiritually] alive together with Christ.” That’s not motivational language, it’s rescue language.
In this text, “dead” isn’t “having a rough season.” Paul is describing spiritual death as separation from God, powerless to self rescue, carried by forces you can’t outgrow with effort alone. You can improve habits and still be separated. You can look fine and still be cut off from the shared life you were created for. That’s why grace is not a bonus. It’s the only remedy that fits the real problem.
I think about my grandma who has passed away in 2011. I still love her. I still miss her. But I’m no longer in day to day relationship with her. There’s no living exchange, no shared presence, no walking down the railroad tracks together looking for neat rocks.
That’s why I chose this title. But God is the hinge. It’s the moment the story stops being defined by what we were, what we did, or what was done to us. It becomes defined by what God did: He made us alive with Christ. That’s identity restoration at the deepest level. Jesus isn’t the add on here. Jesus is the point. He is the One through whom God brings us back to life, and back into relationship with Him.
Start with what Paul starts with: God’s heart. “But God” is not first about our faith, our effort, or our emotional consistency. It’s about who God is. Paul says God is rich in mercy and motivated by great love (Ephesians 2:4). Mercy is not God pretending sin is small. Mercy is God moving toward people who are truly stuck and spiritually dead. Love isn’t God rewarding our progress. Love is God initiating rescue while we were still separated.
That’s the first way this text reveals Jesus. If we want to know what the Father is like, look at the Son. Jesus didn’t shout love from a distance. He came close. He touched the unclean. He ate with the rejected. He moved toward the ashamed. He didn’t wait for dead hearts to revive themselves. He spoke life. He carried sin. He opened the way back. “But God” isn’t theory. It has a face and His name is Jesus.
Paul’s language in Ephesians 2 is designed to remove the illusion of self salvation. When he says we were “dead,” he uses the Greek word nekros, which communicates lifelessness in the sense of being unresponsive to God’s life. You can still be active in a hundred ways and still be dead in this sense, because spiritual death is fundamentally separation. That’s why Paul doesn’t describe us as merely “confused” or “immature.” He describes a condition that we can’t change.
Then Paul describes what carried us before Christ. Even though our anchored verse is 2:4–5, the context (2:1–3) matters because it explains the kind of rescue we needed. Paul says we walked according to the course of this world, according to spiritual influence opposed to God, and according to the desires of the flesh and the mind. In other words, there was an external current, a spiritual war, and an internal drive. That is design versus distortion in real time. Design is a life lived in communion with God, anchored in truth, shaped by love. Distortion is a life lived apart from God, anchored in fear, shaped by the world’s patterns and the enemy’s lies.
So what did God do? Paul says God made us alive together with Christ (Ephesians 2:5). The word Paul uses carries union. It’s life shared with Christ. This is the heart of the gospel. Jesus isn’t just our example here. He’s our rescue and our access. He doesn’t merely show us how to live. He makes it possible for us to live with God again.
This is also why Paul’s gospel always connects cross and resurrection. If the problem is separation, then the answer must include reconciliation. If the problem is death, the answer must include life. Jesus died to deal with sin, yes. But He rose to bring us into a new kind of life. Paul says it elsewhere like this: “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17, AMP). New creation is not religious behavior with better branding. It’s a new reality: in Christ, we are brought near.
We can hear the same heartbeat in Romans: “But God clearly shows and proves His own love for us, by the fact that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8, AMP). That’s “But God” again. God’s love moves first. God’s mercy initiates. Jesus is the decisive act of God’s kindness toward people who could not climb their way back.
And because this is covenant love, it’s not fragile. It’s not based on our mood. It’s anchored in what Jesus has done. That’s why Hebrews can say Jesus is always living to make intercession (Hebrews 7:25). We are not held by our grip on God. We are held by Christ’s grip on us. The “But God” shift is not a one time event that fades. It’s an ongoing reality: mercy continues, love continues, life continues, because Jesus continues.
So how do we respond? Not with performance, but with return. With faith that receives. With repentance that releases. With worship that says, “Jesus, You did what I couldn’t do. You brought me near. Teach me to live like someone who is alive with You.” The Christian life is not us trying to become acceptable. It’s us learning to abide in the acceptance Christ secured, then walking it out in obedience.
When Paul talks about being “dead” and then being made alive, he’s talking about spiritual realities. But those spiritual realities show up in the body. If you’ve ever felt distant from God, you know it’s not just a theological concept. It often feels like numbness, tightness, restlessness, irritability, avoidance, cynicism, or exhaustion. There’s a reason for that. Humans are wired for connection. When connection feels unsafe or unavailable, the nervous system adapts.
A simple way to say it is this: fear fuels self protection. Fear is not only panic. It’s the internal pressure that says, “I have to handle this myself.” It predicts pain and demands control. And once fear is in the driver’s seat, you will reach for strategies that make sense in the moment, even if they cost you in the long run. You might control to prevent disappointment. You might shut down to avoid being hurt. You might overfunction to keep people close. You might detach to stop feeling. None of that makes you crazy. It makes you human.
Your brain is a prediction machine. Under stress, it scans for threat and tries to keep you alive. If your history taught you that closeness leads to pain, your body will start treating closeness as danger. If your history taught you that honesty gets punished, your body will start treating honesty as threat. This is where self protection patterns get formed. They are often learned in real pain. They may have helped you survive. But survival strategies have a cost: they keep you alive, but they can also keep you stuck.
Here is where Ephesians 2 helps without shaming you. Paul doesn’t describe the “before” as a personality flaw. He describes it as a condition. Separation produces drift. Drift produces coping. Coping becomes identity. Then identity becomes a prison. That’s why people often say, “This is just who I am,” when what they really mean is, “This is how I learned to stay safe.” Clinically, that makes sense. Spiritually, it’s not the final word.
This is also where design versus distortion becomes personal. God designed you for relationship: with Him, and with others. Distortion takes that design and twists it. It tells you connection is unsafe, trust is naive, surrender is weakness, and control is wisdom. Fear makes those lies feel like truth. The enemy loves that, because lies don’t just misinform you. They shape you. Jesus said the devil is the father of lies (John 8:44). Lies don’t only create bad thoughts. They create an entire way of living.
But we need to be clear about something: regulation is not salvation. Learning to breathe, calm your body, and notice your patterns matters. It’s wise. It’s stewardship. It helps you respond instead of react. But it cannot resurrect a dead heart. You can become very regulated and still live apart from God. You can have great coping skills and still be separated. That’s why “But God” is bigger than nervous system work. Your nervous system makes sense. Your coping has a cost. And Jesus meets you in the body, but He doesn’t stop at the body. He leads you into surrender.
Here’s the good news: when Paul says God made us alive with Christ, he’s describing a new foundation that changes everything, including your internal world. When you know you are loved, when you know you are brought near, when you know you are not performing for acceptance, your body can begin to release the constant threat posture. Over time, safety with God becomes real. Not hype. Not denial. Real safety. The kind that lets you tell the truth. The kind that lets you soften. The kind that lets you stop living from fear.
So the clinical takeaway is not, “Try harder to be calm.” It’s, “Let the gospel become embodied.” That starts small. You notice fear. You name the strategy you reach for. You stop justifying it. You bring it to Jesus. You practice a different response. You repeat. That is how renewal becomes lived. But again, the center is not your technique. It’s your Savior.
God’s mercy is not a distant idea, it is a living rescue in Jesus Christ. Because He made you alive with Christ, your life is defined by grace and relationship, not by separation and fear.
Ephesians 2:4–5 invites a simple, brave kind of honesty. Name the separation without spiraling. Name the fear without defending it. Then return to Jesus as your life, not your accessory. The goal is not to be impressive. The goal is to live connected.
Start here because He is the source of life you can’t manufacture. “But God” isn’t an idea to agree with, it’s a relationship to return to. If you’ve been living like you’re on your own, say it plainly. No performing. No overexplaining. Just truth.
Come back to Jesus in a way that’s real and daily. Open Scripture and sit with it. Pray like you mean it. Tell Him where you’ve been numb or distant. Ask Him to make you alive again right there, not in theory, but in that specific place where you’ve been self rescuing. You’re not trying to earn closeness. You’re responding to a closeness He already secured.
Daily rhythm with God:
Living “made alive with Christ” means you stop relating to yourself through shame and fear. You can name what’s true without making it your identity. You can admit, “I’ve been self protecting,” without turning that confession into a verdict.
This is where you practice ownership without condemnation. Ask yourself, “What am I afraid of right now?” Then ask, “What strategy do I reach for when that fear shows up?” Name it. Not to excuse it, but to bring it into the light where Jesus can meet you. Your nervous system makes sense, and your coping has a cost. Jesus isn’t asking you to pretend you’re fine. He’s inviting you to stop living from survival and start living from relationship.
Daily rhythm with yourself:
When you’re separated from God, relationships tend to become survival spaces. You manage, perform, avoid, control, or withdraw. But when God makes you alive with Christ, you’re not fighting for worth anymore. You can show up with more honesty and less armor.
This doesn’t mean you trust everyone. Being alive with Christ doesn’t erase wisdom or boundaries. It means you’re no longer led by fear, and you’re no longer trying to get people to play the role only Jesus can fill. You can take one step toward repair where it’s appropriate, or one step toward a boundary where it’s necessary. Either way, you’re living connected, not controlled.
Daily rhythm with others:
This rhythm will move you from self protection toward real relationship, where connection is not forced, it’s formed in truth and sustained by grace.
Purpose: downshift from threat, return to living exchange with Jesus, and make room for truth.
NOTE: If you feel activated, start with inhale 3, exhale 5 for 60 seconds. Then move into the pattern below.
Posture: Sit with both feet on the floor. Relax your shoulders. Unclench your jaw. Put one hand on your chest if it helps you stay present.
The practice (under 3 minutes):
Repeat 7 cycles. (or more)
Optional extension: continue for 2–4 more minutes, and on each exhale name one thing you are handing to Jesus.
Why it matters:
Your body often carries fear before your mind can explain it. Breath is not empty mindfulness here. It’s embodied dependence. You are training your system to return to Jesus instead of tightening around control.
Pro Tip: Lower the counts if needed. The goal is regulation and presence, not strain.
Abba,
You’re rich in mercy, and Your love is great. Let Your Spirit rule in me today, not fear and not self protection. Give me what I need for this day, and teach me to receive it without striving. Forgive me where I’ve tried to live apart from You, and help me forgive as You have forgiven me in Christ. Lead me away from temptation and deliver me from the evil one, because Jesus is my life and my access.
Hallelujah. Amen.
Taking time to reflect is one of the most powerful tools for spiritual growth and self-awareness. These journal prompts are designed to help you pause, process, and partner with God in the places He’s refining you. Don’t rush the answers—let the Holy Spirit guide your thoughts. As you write, ask God to reveal what’s beneath the surface and align your heart more fully with His truth and design.
If today you sense the Spirit drawing you to place your trust in Jesus, know that the work is already finished. Salvation is not earned by effort but received by faith in what Christ has done on the cross and through His resurrection.
You can respond right now with a simple prayer of faith:
“Jesus, I believe You died for my sin and rose again. I turn from my old life and place my trust in You as my Lord and Savior. Thank You for forgiving me and making me new. Help me follow You from this day forward. Amen.”
If you prayed this from your heart, welcome to the family of God. Take the next step by telling a trusted believer, opening the Gospel of John, and asking the Lord to guide you as you grow in Him.
The Kingdom OPORD is your step-by-step battle plan for spiritual growth and victory. Ready to turn conviction into clarity?
Disabled combat veteran turned Kingdom builder. I write to equip others with truth, strategy, and the fire to live boldly for Christ. Every battle has a purpose. Every word here is for the ones who refuse to stay shallow.